


walk the line

by anons



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Heist AU, M/M, [Shane Madej voice] Hey look steal from the rich do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anons/pseuds/anons
Summary: Learning to distinguish your feelings isn't part of the job description of being a cat burglar.
Relationships: Jung Sungchan/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 12
Kudos: 74





	walk the line

Park Jisung breaks a limb and a half in Jeju. Chenle finds him in the hospital room with a museum of facial bruises and an elevated leg. According to Taeyong, he accidentally fell off a running car and landed both his legs in the gutter.

“When does he recover?” Chenle asks.

“Two to three months, give or take."

His eyebrows furrow as he mentally counts. “You mean he’s off the field until April?”

“Or probably longer,” Taeyong says. “We want to make sure he recovers fully before taking on another major job, you know?” They look at Jisung popping grapes into his mouth and looking like he’s having the time of his life. “Besides, he says he’s alright with doing desk work for a while.”

“No, no, he can’t do that,” Chenle says, and then he marches to Jisung’s bed. “You can’t do that. You’re the best wire-puller in the team. Who’s gonna throw me my wire? Who’s gonna guarantee my escape?” He shakes Jisung’s shoulders desperately. “What about Shanghai?”

/

“There’s him.” Renjun shows him the tenth picture. “No? Okay, well there’s this guy. This girl’s pretty neat, too, she was in the Singapore casino one from three months ago. Remember that? I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” He sifts through the pictures idly until his face perks. “Oh! There’s also this kid. I met him a few times before. Seems like a nice—”

“No.”

“What? You haven’t even looked at—”

“No, no, and no.” He flips every single profile over. “I don’t want any of them. I don’t _need_ any of them. What we all need is for Taeyong-hyung to do his magic and to let Jisung recover immediately.”

Renjun sighs. “You know he can’t do that, Chenle.”

“Then I won’t accept any replacements,” he says stubbornly. “It’s either me and Jisung or none. Why the hell would I entrust my life to someone I barely know and haven’t even worked with?”

“So that’s your condition?”

“Huh?”

“You want someone you know and you have worked with before?”

Chenle gives him a stink eye. “Who wouldn’t?”

Renjun neatly stacks the files, musing.

/

“Please,” Chenle begs, clutching Jisung’s arm like a lifeline, “please, please, please I need you to recover soon. Get some psychotherapy shit done, I don’t care. Just please get back on the field soon.”

“Chenle,” Jisung says patiently, “I can’t do that.”

He grips Jisung’s arm tighter. “You have to. If I put my trust on anyone else I might die. Like, literally die. They could snap the wire and I could fall and crack my neck on the pavement.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” Jisung tries to peel (reads: forcefully drag) his hand off his bruising arm. “I’m not the only one capable of the job, Chenle. You need to learn to trust other people. They’re as professional as we are.” He snorts. “As professional as burglars can get, anyway.”

“Well I worked with a certain _someone_ in the past but we all know how that went.”

Jisung sighs, IV drip swinging like a pendulum when he finally and very forcefully extracts Chenle’s vice grip from him. “Wire-climbing is a two-man job, Chenle. You know it’s not gonna work if you don’t learn to trust and communicate with the other person.”

/

Monday midnight, Donghyuck hosts a small and dirty side job. It’s in the hot spot arcade smack in the middle of Seoul. His little sister wants the new Pokemon game, he says. There are enough coins in the machines to buy her ten.

“If this is a four-man job,” Chenle starts, looking around, “Who’s the fourth one?”

As if on cue, a tall figure comes sprinting towards the car. “Hey,” he breathes, hands on his knees, “Sorry, I just saw your message—” and when he looks up his mouth zips when he sees Chenle at the back of the car wearing the most incredulous face.

“You’re joking,” Chenle deadpans, turning to Donghyuck and Renjun.

They are not.

/

Donghyuck smiles, mask over his head. “I need you to get down on the floor, please.” The gun pointed to the lone security guard’s head is a pellet gun but Chenle is certain Donghyuck could con anyone into thinking that the gun shoots carnival-style flames if he tries hard enough.

The old man plants his knees and palms to the ground, quivering.

Renjun lockpicks the doors in less than ten seconds.

“Show off,” Chenle scoffs, walking in, “You could’ve just taken the keys from him.”

Renjun laughs. “Where’s the fun without a little theatrics?”

Chenle does his best not to side-eye the taller figure hovering beside Donghyuck hesitantly. Renjun reads his face behind his mask, unfortunately, and shakes his head. Chenle holds both palms up defensively.

“Hey,” Renjun calls, “Hey, yeah you. Get over here.”

He jogs next to Renjun. Awkward and crowbar-wielding. “You good?” Renjun asks, and he nods stiffly. “You sure?”

Another stiff nod.

Renjun pats his arm and says, “Go do your thing,” and they both watch as he walks to the machines like a six-foot-tall robot.

Chenle scowls. “Why the hell is he here?”

“Donghyuck wanted him in,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes when he sees Chenle’s furious expression. “Oh, calm down. Are you still bitter over last time?”

“Why wouldn’t I be bitter when he _plummeted_ me ten meters to the ground?”

“It was only four meters, Chenle, and you had a safety rope.”

Chenle gapes. “ _Only?_ Hyung, I broke my shoulder from that fall! It’s been six months and I still wake up in cold sweat thinking about that night!”

“He apologized and he was new to the job. You know this. He’s gotten extremely better now.”

“He’s a novice.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Novice or not, that kid is certainly doing more than you are right now,” he says, picking a door open. “Go do your job and help him, _sunbaenim_.”

Chenle scowls and marches away.

He finds him—Sungchan or whatever—clumsily crowbarring the coin box of a Metal Slug machine. Chenle blinks and thinks: dear god, is this _really_ the main person for today’s job?

“If you continue at that rate,” he starts, and Sungchan startles at the voice, “we’re gonna walk out with barely anything.” He sighs exasperatedly, holding his palm up. “That’s not gonna work. Hand me a screwdriver.”

Sungchan fishes one from his bag and hands it over wordlessly.

Chenle does his best to explain the makings of the machine and breaks it open in a minute. When he hands the tool back, Sungchan accepts it, blinking widely. Chenle tries not to roll his eyes.

“When you’re a thief, you’ll find that it’s the best when you constantly try to expand and improve your skills,” he says in parting. “Stay here while I check the registers.” He tilts his head, blasé. “Don’t mess this up like last time, Sungchan-ah.”

Most of the treasure in arcades are locked away in the machines, he realizes. He can only hope that this one they’re robbing has a safe full of bank notes too. Quite a reach but hey, a robber can dream. He walks away from the registers with nothing but two bags of Cheetos. When he returns, Renjun is already helping Sungchan bag coins into a black duffel from the fourth broken open machine.

Renjun looks up at him, unimpressed.

“Cheetos?” Chenle offers, popping one into his mouth.

He does help eventually when Donghyuck yells at them to hurry the fuck up from the outside. They walk out with two full bags of coins and one filled with junk food. The old man still has his trembling palms on the floor when they finish. Donghyuck tells him to count to thirty out loud and leaves him 20000 won for the trouble.

It’s a successful job, in the end.

“What the—” Chenle squints at the stuffed bear shoved to his face.

“It fell from the machine when I was breaking it open,” Sungchan mutters before facing the window and not turning around the entire car ride. Donghyuck smirks at him from the driver’s mirror and the only reason Chenle doesn’t ram his face into the wheel is because there are too many museums in the world they have yet to rob before he can allow himself to die in peace.

/

“Sungchan is smart and strong,” Renjun explains. “Not Jeno or Lucas or Johnny-hyung level strong but according to Jaemin, he’s good at maximizing his strengths and utilizing his skills.”

Chenle snorts. “Okay.”

“He’s pretty nimble too. Soccer team, remember?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Plus, he picks up on things quickly. You taught him the screwdriver thing in the arcade right? After you left, he opened three machines in like two minutes.”

“Alright, hyung, what’s your point?”

“My point is,” Renjun says, “I hope you like him because he’s officially one half of the wire team for Shanghai.”

Chenle gapes. “ _What?_ ”

“He fits your criteria: one, you do know him and two, you _have_ worked with him not only once but twice now.”

“But that’s not—he shouldn’t count!”

“Why not?” He throws a coin in the air and flicks it to Chenle’s dresser. It hits the stuffed bear which falls sidewards. “Sentimental,” he remarks, snickering as he walks away from Chenle’s flustered sputtering, “See you at the briefing, Chenle.”

/

Johnny tosses the folder to the table. “Shanghai.”

Chenle does his best not to say _oh god_ at loud. Donghyuck moves to the edge of his seat excitedly. Johnny looks around and asks, “Where’s Mark?”

Donghyuck waves a disinterested hand. “He’ll be here soon.”

“We can’t start without everyone else, Donghyuck,” Johnny says, rolling his eyes. “Can somebody please call Mark and tell him to get his ass over here?”

Renjun pulls out his phone.

“Here I am!” Mark bursts from the door, looking half-awake, “Hi, hi, sorry.”

Renjun puts his phone back.

“So nice of you to join us,” Johnny says as Mark deposits himself to the nearest seat gracelessly. “Is everyone here now or are there more kids our Yuta here need to personally fetch?”

Yuta smiles with a glint in his eye.

Johnny’s eyes scan the room and he eventually starts doing his unnecessary introductory remarks. Chenle listens, doing his best to not dwell on the possibility that Sungchan’s absence _might_ mean there’s a chance he ultimately wasn’t screened for the job and that Jisung might still hold his original role. A slim, slim chance—

—which dwindles to none when he sees a not so inconspicuous figure sneak its way to the room. He tries to keep his exasperated sigh at bay.

“Our main target is their collection of Ming dynasty jades,” Johnny says. “It will only be on display for exactly a day during a function where Shanghai’s richest can view the collection in the executive room. I want you all to study the layout—” he pauses briefly, seeing Sungchan quietly sit next to Renjun, “—and tell me what you think is the best way to get to that room. Sungchannie.”

Sungchan straightens. “Yes!”

“I almost forgot about you,” he says with a smile. “Sungchan, can you look at those layouts and tell me if you were to plan this out, how would you get us to the executive room holding those lovely Ming dynasty jades?”

Chenle rolls his eyes, watching Sungchan scan the papers in front of him desperately. “Um,” he stammers, “Through the VIP elevator? Renjun can acquire the security card for this which can be used for both the elevator and the executive room.”

“And how will you escape with the jades when there is security immediately outside the elevators?

Everyone suddenly finds the ceiling interesting when Sungchan turns to look at the entire room for help. Dejun thankfully chips in. “Can’t we enter through the floating museum instead? It’s connected to the executive room.”

“The floating museum is only open from Wednesday to Sunday. The function will be held on a Monday. When the museum is closed, the stairs leading up to it are designed to fold into itself and to be deposited in a cube in the upper volumes of the building to truly capture that floating look during regular days.”

“Oh.” Dejun furrows his eyebrows. “It seems like it’s the only way to get to the executive room, though, other than the VIP elevator.”

“It actually is,” Johnny agrees. “So now the question is: how will we get to the floating museum?”

After a few seconds of silence, Chenle realizes. “We get there through me.”

Johnny smiles. “That’s right, our very own cat burglar,” he says, flipping to another page, “Occam’s razor. How do you get to a floating museum? Well—you float too, of course!”

/

They have a four-week preparation period. Jaemin pinpoints the security head in two days. He hacks the cameras in three. Hacking their names into the guest list and creating a blind spot in the security cameras will be a piece of cake, he says.

Fifth day, he gets kicked out of a meeting he forces himself into. Something about a side job during the Shanghai heist. Apparently, more details will be given during the second meeting. For now the whole thing’s veiled to the rest of the team like a fucking bride.

“I’m not a kid anymore, you know,” Chenle calls out, rubbing his smarting arm.

“We know,” Yuta smiles and closes the door to his face.

After, the days leading up to the heist are uneventful, like it always is. Jisung is still bed-ridden. Jeno could still break open a watermelon with his bare hands in ten seconds. Donghyuck and Renjun are still annoying as hell.

During that one-month window, Sungchan tries to talk to him for a grand total of three times.

/

“Chenle, hey,” Sungchan catches him outside after the briefing, “Hey, um, I just wanted to tell you that I know I really fucked things up before but I’m getting better now, I swear. I promise nothing even remotely close to last time is going to happen.” His ears turn red. “We don’t talk much but you—you trust me, right?”

Chenle holds in a scoff. “Well, I have no choice, do I?”

He pretends not to see the crestfallen look on Sungchan’s face when he walks away.

/

Donghyuck opens the door loudly. “We’re going for pizza. You wanna go?”

“No thanks, hyung,” Chenle says, splayed on the couch, eyes glued to his phone.

“Okay well, we’re leaving in five minutes so if you suddenly decide you wanna come with, just go downstairs.”

The next few minutes pass in relative silence until someone quietly knocks on the door. He sighs, looking at the intruder, and drops his phone on his face when he sees who it is.

“Motherfuck—”

“Hi.” Sungchan’s eyes dart around awkwardly. “Donghyuck-hyung said to ask you if you have any last-minute changes to your decision. We’re leaving in a bit.”

Chenle scowls, rubbing his red nose. “Thanks a lot.”

“Sorry."

“Tell him I’m not going.” He turns his back to Sungchan. “Have fun.”

/

Taeyong sends them to collect money from a previous job as per Renjun’s suggestion. In less than ten minutes, Chenle is already close to pulling his hair out.

“I told you to take the highway exit,” he says in the calmest voice he can conjure.

“Sorry.” Sungchan taps his fingers on the wheel restlessly. “I thought it’d be quicker here because—”

“Well you thought wrong.”

Sungchan spares him a look. “It’s not bad. It’s just traffic.”

“ _Bumper-to-bumper_ traffic, Sungchan, which we could’ve avoided if you just listened—”

“The money isn’t going anywhere, Chenle,” Sungchan sighs, and Chenle loses his retort when Sungchan, tired, shakes his head in a wordless plea. The car ride is long and excruciatingly quiet. He resolutely stares out the window with clenched fists the entire time.

/

After the third incident, Sungchan eventually stops and sticks to Donghyuck like glue instead but it doesn’t really matter because it’s not like Chenle fucking cared or whatever anyway.

/

A month in, Jisung is still annoying and limbless as ever.

“Park Jisung,” he announces, bursting through the hospital doors, “you better be up and walking when I—oh.”

Sungchan looks up from his seat.

“Hi.” He looks away fast, and Chenle feels himself frown when Sungchan stands up. “I should go. Recover soon, Jisung-ah.”

Once he leaves, Chenle says, “I didn’t know you and your replacement were friends.”

“He has a name, Chenle.” Jisung gives him a pointed look. “Besides, _Sungchan_ visited the warehouse a lot even before his first job. I’ve been friends with him long before you finally acknowledged his existence.”

“Long before he fractured my shoulder, you mean.”

“What would it take for you to forgive him?” Jisung sighs. “He was only doing his job, you know. Besides, it was my fault for missing the cue. You were lucky he was there to cover me or else we would’ve failed.”

“And I wouldn’t have fallen.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I told you it’s a two-man job, Chenle. Of course he’d have no idea that wire two was loose if all you did was argue with him instead of giving him notes.”

“Why the hell are you siding with him?”

“I’m not siding with him,” Jisung says patiently. “I’m just saying you should look at things from his perspective. He was willing to learn from his mistakes, you know. I don’t understand why you hate him so much.”

“I don’t hate him.”

“You act like it.”

“I really don’t, what the hell? I’m not that petty!”

“Well okay, if it isn’t hate, what do you call the deep-seated emotions you have about him? Is the fall really the only reason why you feel so intensely for him?”

Because his fucking brain hates him, Chenle colors. “What other reason could there be, Park Jisung?”

“I don’t know, Chenle.” Jisung watches him, blinking. “You tell me.”

/

Flight day rolls in. He was supposed to sit with Renjun and Sungchan with Donghyuck but they somehow end up unwillingly seated beside each other.

“I know I said I was gonna sit with you, Sungchan-ah,” Donghyuck says like the devil he is, “but I remembered some of my stuff are in Renjun’s handbag so I thought it’d be easier to sit with him instead. Sorry.”

“I hope you throw up during the flight,” Chenle grits through his smile.

Donghyuck just cackles and leaves them be.

He turns to Sungchan. “I’m getting the window seat.”

“Whatever,” Sungchan mumbles, eyes dropping like weights. Chenle deposits his bag into the overhead compartment and settles into his seat. Two hours, he tells himself. He just needs to sit through this for two fucking hours. It’s not that bad, if you think about it. He’s definitely had worse days.

You know, like that one time he fell off a building and broke his shoulder.

Nerves kettle-singing at the remembrance, he turns to Sungchan but Sungchan beats him to it when he says, “Just a little warning: I didn’t sleep last night so I might sleep the entire flight.”

“Well that’s good,” Chenle says, not understanding why this would warrant a warning because he doesn’t really care. “I was just about to tell you not to talk to me anyway.”

He tries to ignore the flash of hurt in Sungchan’s eyes because, really? He should’ve continued sticking to Donghyuck if he didn’t want Chenle mouthing him off, then.

(He ignores the taunting voice in his head.)

(It sounds a suspicious lot like Jisung.)

An hour later, he finally understands Sungchan’s warning when he feels a fastening weight to his left shoulder. He peels his gaze from the sky and sees a mop of brown hair tickling his chin the moment he turns.

His mind goes dangerously blank.

If Chenle doesn’t brush him off, well—no one needs to know about that. They land a little bit past lunch time and when Sungchan lifts his head from Chenle’s shoulder, he blinks in confusion, trying to understand the situation.

His sleep-marked cheeks turn a violent shade of red when he finally realizes. “Oh.”

Chenle ignores him and looks resolutely ahead.

/

“Chenle,” Donghyuck rounds up on him when they settle into their rooms. “Zhong Chenle—born and raised in China. Our best Chinese teammate.”

“Hey, I’m Chinese too,” Renjun calls from across the room.

Donghyuck ignores him. “Chenle,” he says, coming to hold up his hand, “There’s a roasted duck place right across the street. Can you go there and order for us out of the goodness in your heart?”

“Renjun-hyung,” Chenle starts.

“I am not Chinese,” Renjun backtracks so fast. “I’ve never spoken Chinese in my entire life. I have never even been to China before today.”

Chenle balls up his jacket and blindly throws it to the general direction of Renjun’s voice. Donghyuck diligently racks up everyone’s orders from floor to floor. When Chenle walks up to the door after, he pauses to take one last look at the room. “Is no one actually coming with me?”

Renjun throws up a coin and slaps it tails-first to the back of his palm.

“Fine,” Chenle huffs, shutting the door loud.

/

Someone sidles up next to him in the line to the counter. When he looks up, his thoughts collide into each other and what comes out of his mouth is: “What the hell?”

“Donghyuck-hyung sent me here,” Sungchan says hastily.

“What?”

“To help with the bags.” He gestures lamely. “Look, it’s your turn.”

Chenle distractedly recites the order until he has to pull out his notes on his phone. He tamps down his annoyance when he finds out they have to wait for twenty minutes tops. They situate themselves to a nearby table with the waiting number.

Sungchan breaks the silence. “Can we talk?”

“About what?”

“I feel like I should apologize again,” Sungchan says nervously. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I totally understand if you don’t want to ever forgive me but can we set things aside for a while just for tomorrow? I don’t want you to get into trouble again just because we barely talk to each other without animosity.” He bites his bottom lip. “You know, like last time.”

Chenle gives him a look. “Really? We’re doing this outside in a public restaurant?”

“Well, you haven’t really given me much chances to do it in private.” Chenle grapples for a proper response but before he can get it out, Sungchan continues with a small voice, “Do you hate me or something?”

“No,” is his lightning quick response, and he reddens. “I—I mean. It’s just—” he hears Jisung in his head and scowls as he reddens even more. “Look, it’s not that easy to forget the incident, alright? I just can’t get the wariness out of my system whenever I talk to you.”

Sungchan looks close to heartbroken. “Oh.”

Chenle sighs. “I don’t hate you.”

“Okay.”

“Really, I don’t,” he mutters, looking away. “Just give me time.”

They wait in suffocating silence for a few minutes. Chenle’s thoughts line up like a traffic jam and he feels a tectonic shift in the little space between them. After a while, Sungchan looks at his phone and mutters, “Johnny-hyung says there will be a meeting after lunch.”

“Oh?”

“Something about a side job?”

“Ah, yeah.”

Sungchan blinks. “You know about it?”

“I was there when they first talked about it.” He doesn’t need to know that Chenle got kicked out after less than a minute. “We’re robbing a millionaire’s vault in the function, apparently.” He pauses. “Well, they are, at least.”

“What about the cuts?”

“Still distributed equally except it’s higher now.”

“Wow,” he says. “Do you know if we have a role or if our only job is to focus on the artworks?”

Chenle shrugs, mind still jammed. “They’ll discuss details later, I guess.”

Their order arrives in four plastic bags. After thanking the waiter, they step out into the warm streets. Chenle’s nerves itch to do something he can’t quite identify. Sungchan quietly trails after him like a thought.

/

The meeting takes place in a rotten apartment room. Ming dynasty jades, four Zhang Enli paintings, and half a million in cash. According to Johnny, there are four major parts to the plan.

/

“Everyone ready?” Johnny asks through the earpiece.

Amidst the chorus of response, Chenle hears Sungchan say, “Ready,” and tries to ignore the fact that he could easily single out Sungchan’s voice. His teammates, except for Sungchan who’s situated in a rooftop of a nearby building, scatter in an unassuming manner in the general vicinity of the area. The sunset bleeds through his suit.

He adjusts his earpiece. “Ready, hyung.”

“Okay,” Johnny says as the gates flood open, “It’s showtime.”

/

Renjun acquires the security card five minutes into the event. Tipping the champagne flute into his mouth, he passes by Chenle so casually he barely even feels the card being slid into his palm.

“Got it,” he mutters the moment Renjun disappears. “I’m exiting now.”

“Good,” Johnny says. “Sungchan, standby. Donghyuck, do your thing.”

He passes by Donghyuck in the bar on his way to the exit. Crowing on the tycoon for information, eyes and mouth all light. It’s much darker when he steps outside. A low trail of lights follows the path to the gate.

“Two in the guardhouse, one on the entrance to the lower volume.” Chenle scans the field. “Think I’ll find another guard at the back of the building?”

“Thought I saw a prowling guard before entering but I’m not sure,” Dejun says.

Chenle casually skirts the building. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, “Thanks for the warning.”

“Whenever you’re ready, Chenle,” Johnny says.

“I’m ready,” he confirms, bouncing on the heels of his feet. “Shoot your shot, Sungchan.” The mask he slides to his head fluffs up his hair. His entire outfit is as black as midnight.

Someone—probably Renjun—snickers into the receiver. He snorts, amused, “He says to shoot your shot, Sungchan-ah.”

“Don’t miss your chance, Sungchan!” Dejun laughs.

“Focus on your job, kids,” Johnny says but Chenle can hear the smile in his voice. “Ready, Sungchan?”

“On it, hyung,” he hears Sungchan mutter, and in less than a minute he sees the end of the harness hang a few inches from his forehead. Chenle unconsciously mumbles out a, “Nice shot,” as he grabs it and fastens himself to it.

Once he’s made sure he’s attached enough, he pats the rope and says, “Okay, hoist me up,” and feels himself lift from the ground, feet light as a feather.

/

On Chenle’s way up, he manages to hurdle past his ego to ask Sungchan to tighten wire one and Donghyuck somehow manages to find out where the room with the vault is.

Everything is going smoothly, so far.

“I’m in,” Chenle breathes. He unbuckles the rope and leaves it hanging out the neat circle he’d sliced through the glass windows.

He hears Johnny say, “Good job, Chenle,” amidst Mark and Dejun furiously whispering to their earpieces as they attempt to enter the room with the vault. He tunes them out to focus.

The museum is dark. He switches on his flashlight and walks through the gallery. Ten minutes, he thinks to himself. He’s got ten minutes to steal the paintings and to reach the executive room before the next VIP guest is scheduled to view the jades.

The paintings are plastered in random spots throughout the gallery. He neatly cuts them out of the frame and rolls them up with a tie for Sungchan to hoist. The black fabric Chenle covers the paintings with camouflages the otherwise visible stolen artworks ziplining from the museum to where Sungchan is.

“This artist is from Jilin too, Renjun-hyung,” Chenle says, reading a plaque, “What does it feel like stealing from someone from your hometown?”

No one answers.

“What, is everyone dead or something?”

“I’m here,” Sungchan says, “They probably took off their earpieces for a while.”

Oh well, one person to talk to is better than none.

“The artworks look so lifelike it’s giving me the chills.”

“I think the latest exhibition has something to do with the human body,” Sungchan tells him. “I got the third painting, thanks.”

“Great.” Chenle rolls another painting. “Here’s the last one.”

Now, onto the main event.

He manoeuvres past the creepy statues, flashlight in hand, and sprints soundlessly to the executive room. The doors immediately open once he slides the security card. The jades wait in a glass case like a prize.

“Oh my god,” he says, knees nearly buckling, “Oh dear god, they’re beautiful.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“With my very own eyes,” he mutters. “This is by far the best moment I’ve ever had the privilege to experience in my life.”

Smashing a hammer through the display case shoots a thrum of satisfaction in his veins. He gingerly wraps them with the same black cloth and hides it in the inside of his tux. Two more minutes. He sprints back to the museum and exits the same way he entered.

“Bring me down,” he says, all fastened.

When he lands back to the ground, he unbuckles all the wires and sends the pouch ziplining to Sungchan. “Hey,” he hears Sungchan say as he adjusts his suit. At that moment, the others flood back into the earpiece.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Chenle,” Johnny says, “Everything’s going smoothly, right? Jaemin told me.”

“Yeah. Has he been listening in the entire time?”

“He has,” Johnny chuckles.

Jaemin says breezily, “Don’t mind me.”

“What happened to the vault?”

“They’re about to crack it open,” Johnny says. “We’re close to walking out with a million.”

Donghyuck and Renjun bombard Chenle with questions but he ignores them. “Sungchan,” he calls, “Were you trying to say something?”

The entire line goes quiet. “What?”

“You sounded like you were about to say something earlier.”

“O—oh, I just wanted to um,” he stammers, “It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to thank you for trusting me.” He can imagine the flush in Sungchan’s face. “I mean, I know you’re still wary from last time and you’re most likely gonna go back to being partners with Jisung after this but I just want you to know that, um, it was nice working with you.” He clears his throat. “And that you did a really great job.”

Donghyuck fake sniffs. “That was so sweet I almost cried.”

“Shut up, hyung,” Sungchan squeaks.

“Yeah, shut up, Donghyuck-hyung,” Chenle exhales. “See you in a bit, Sungchan.”

/

“We’re here,” Jaemin says.

The last part of the plan is supposed to be easy but is, in no way, fool-proof: Sungchan and Jaemin, posing as delivery guys for kitchen essentials, enter through the back of the building. Jaemin distracts the head security with his zero knowledge of Mandarin. Sungchan sneaks into the building and takes the cash from the vault team. They exit.

Johnny allots seven minutes for the entire fiasco. Sungchan and Jaemin have to leave in seven minutes before the next VIP guest enters the executive room and security finds out the jades have been stolen.

Four minutes in, something goes wrong.

“Hyung,” Jaemin frantically says, “Something’s happened. I only got to the head security for a few minutes before another guard went up to him and they started hastily spreading out. I think they found out.”

“Oh shit,” Johnny swears, “Shit. How are we gonna—Sungchan, hey, you got the money, kid?”

No answer.

He sees Mark and Dejun back in the function like nothing’s happened. Mark is incredulously rattling off to their ears, confirming that Sungchan had gotten the money and was making to leave the last time they saw him.

Johnny continues asking, “Anyone seen Sungchan? He needs to leave before the entire place starts crawling with security. Is he not with you, Jaemin?”

“No,” Jaemin says, “I got escorted out. I’m waiting in the truck.”

“I don’t see him,” Renjun says.

“I don’t see him too.” Chenle looks around, anxiety spiking. “Want me to look for him, hyung?”

Chenle walks to the halls when Johnny approves. Three more minutes. The lie that comes out of his mouth comes naturally when he gets questioned by a guard somewhere near room 105. He flashes a million-dollar smile when the guard points him to a bathroom.

Somewhere in the halls leading to the kitchen, he hears someone say, “Chenle,” and his spine immediately snaps straight. “Chenle, right here.” Then he sees the door of a janitor’s closet cracked slightly open. He immediately slithers in without question.

Sungchan looks down at him with wide eyes inches away.

“Jesus,” Chenle says, as his brain unhelpfully supplies a panicked _too close!!!!!!!!!_ , “What the hell are you doing here?”

Sungchan’s exhale tickles Chenle’s forehead. “Hiding. I spotted a guard while leaving. My earpiece got disconnected, I think. The guards blocked all the exits.”

Chenle swears. “Johnny-hyung?”

“I hear him,” Johnny grits. “Just lie low for a bit while we figure out how to get him out, okay?”

Sungchan swallows. “What’d he say?”

“He says to lie low for a while.”

“Chenle,” Johnny says, “You need to leave too before the guards see you and start to get suspicious.” When Chenle unconsciously makes a noise of protest, he assures, “We’ll get Sungchan out, don’t worry. Can you give him your earpiece? He probably needs it more than you do.”

“I’m not worrying,” he tries not to flush, and Sungchan tilts his head at him, clueless. Chenle takes out his in-ear and hands it to Sungchan, saying, “Johnny-hyung says to use this.”

“Okay.”

“I have to go.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

They stare at each other—faltering.

“Yeah,” he remembers to say, pushing the door slightly open. “Okay. See you later.”

When Sungchan smiles, it’s all warmth. “See you later.”

/

According to Renjun, here’s the plan: Sungchan transfers the money from a duffel to a carton he finds in the closet, labels it as fragile, and wraps it in packaging tape. He exits along with the guests. If the guards ask, he’s gonna insist that the package is the wrong box of orders the head chef demanded to return.

“And he’s gonna do it in Japanese,” Renjun mutters. “Hopefully, they let him out easy.”

That is not what happens.

“These are wine glasses,” he hears Sungchan say but none of the guards understand his stuttery Japanese, “Wine glasses. They’re the wrong type so the chef said to take it back—hey no, why do you need to open it? This is fragile!”

The fiasco has caught the attention of half the guests.

“No, no,” Sungchan insists desperately, “Keep your hands off. This is fragile. Hey, hey—” The guards start rounding up on him. Chenle’s reaction is cheap and instinctive.

He turns to Renjun. “Quick, punch me.”

“What?” Renjun’s eyes brighten.

“Just punch me!”

He grins and says, “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for a long, long time,” and then he punches Chenle hard and square on the face.

Someone gasps.

“Harder and yell insults at me,” he rasps, and Renjun happily obliges, knocking him off his feet. They scuffle violently on the floor until the guards have to pull them apart. Renjun curses him out in rapid fire Mandarin and he responds with equal fervor. Arms bracketed by an angry guard, he briefly catches a sight of Sungchan blinking wildly at him, confused and concerned, before someone through the earpiece presumably snaps him out of it and he exits the building, safe and fast.

Chenle, bruised and beaten, breathes easy.

/

They immediately leave the country in separate flights.

His face is still banged up bad when they arrive in Korea around midnight. Johnny deems the job a dubious success but a success nevertheless. With the Chinese police keeping a close eye on the black market, they only receive half the cut for the jade and paintings for the meantime.

“Good job, guys,” Johnny smiles.

Chenle sees nothing but the empty chair next to him.

/

Jisung brightens when he sees him the next morning. “You’re back!” Then he blinks, laughing when he sees Chenle’s bruised face. “Wow. Rough week?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, spreading his limbs on the couch beside Jisung’s bed. “You’re getting released, right?”

“In two days, yeah. What happened to you?”

Chenle sighs. “Got on a fight with Renjun-hyung.”

“What?”

“Not a real one,” he assures, and Jisung calms down, “Something went awry in the last part of the plan. They blocked the exits so everyone had to be subjected to a security check. I asked Renjun-hyung to punch me as a diversion so we could escape with the money.”

“Who had the money?”

Chenle mumbles, “Sungchan.”

“Oh.” Jisung’s eyes widen. “You asked to get beaten so Sungchan could escape?”

“With the money!” Chenle scowls. “You’re making it sound like an entirely different thing.”

“And what did Sungchan say?”

Chenle turns a bruised cheek grumpily.

“Oh man, he hasn’t talked to you, huh?”

“Whatever. He doesn’t need to,” Chenle huffs indignantly, and Jisung’s eyebrows raise. “It’s not a big deal, anyway. I would’ve done it for anyone else if it meant succeeding.” He impatiently taps his fingers on his crossed arms. “I haven’t even seen Sungchan since we came back.”

Jisung watches him. “Do you want to?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Chenle snaps, face red, standing up. “I’m getting you breakfast. Stay here.” And then he walks out of the room, steps on fire.

/

Chenle finds out most of the Shanghai team have temporarily moved away from the warehouse as a precaution. Johnny insists this is the safest move although none of the security cameras caught a clear shot of their faces thanks to Jaemin’s tampering.

Despite this, a police sketch of Sungchan has been released to the public.

“Oh no,” Chenle says, dread filling his entire body.

“Yeah.” Johnny’s face is grim. "I figured they’d identify him as a suspect early in the case so I sent him away for a while the minute we landed. There’s a chance they might rescind their statement though once they find further evidence and figure out the time stamp of his arrival and security finding out about the jade doesn’t quite match up.”

“What about the money in the vault, though?”

“There are no cameras in the halls so it’s not a problem,” he says. “They’ll just assume the money, the paintings and the jade were stolen at the same time.”

Chenle swallows. “Can I know where Sungchan is?”

Johnny doesn’t answer.

/

In the following weeks, the others slowly trickle back and occupy their usual spots. Dejun hogging the couch, Renjun and Donghyuck raising hell, Mark’s laughter ringing like bells in the entire warehouse. It seems complete—almost.

“They’re slowly losing their leads,” Donghyuck tells him. “Sungchan will be fine, don’t worry.”

Chenle scowls. “I’m not.”

One Sungchan-less day, he stumbles upon a realization. Trips over it, actually. Hurdles over the fact that’s been staring him in the eye since day one and scrapes his heart.

“Fuck,” he sighs, chest speeding past sixty when he finally, _finally_ comprehends the entire thing.

/

Today was just a bland Wednesday until it wasn’t.

Turning on his heels, he nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Sungchan, in all his six-feet-glory, less than a foot away. “Jesus Christ,” he exhales, “Oh my god. Holy shit. What are you doing here?”

“Visiting,” Sungchan says, looking around cautiously, “Are you alone?”

He has half the mind to be snarky. “Do you see anyone else with me?”

Sungchan cracks a smile at that, and Chenle’s chest tightens because fuck. He really wasn’t ready for this. They move to an alley with brick-red walls threatening to close in on them. Sungchan asks, “How are you?”

Chenle bursts. “How are—what the hell is wrong with you? You have half of China looking for you and then you disappear from the face of the earth for a month and you have the nerve to ask me how I am?”

“It wasn’t really my choice to disappear,” he mutters.

“I know that,” Chenle snaps.

“Sorry.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t really get the chance to thank you for that stunt you pulled back in Shanghai,” he says, arms wringing in front of him nervously. “So, um, thanks. That was a real life-saving move.” He clears his throat. “Wouldn’t want it to happen again, though.”

Chenle raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t dream of doing it again even if you asked.”

Sungchan laughs. “I figured.”

“When are you going back?”

“No idea,” he shrugs. “Johnny-hyung says he’ll call when things settle. I’m staying somewhere in Busan with this cool grandpa Johnny-hyung says is his distant relative or something.” That definitely isn’t true but Chenle’s gonna let him believe that. “I learned to fish.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Yeah,” Sungchan says. “Well, I have to go now before someone sees me. Do you—” he hesitates, “do you wanna keep in contact?”

Chenle looks away. “Only if you don’t mind.”

Sungchan gives him the telephone number of Johnny-hyung’s Super Cool Grandpa. Before they part, he gives Chenle one last smile, tugging the hood to further cover his head. Watching him walk away leaves Chenle with a vaguely unsettling feeling. Like this could be the last time they’ll see each other for a while and if Chenle doesn’t do anything he’s gonna wallow in regret for a long, long time so he says, “Wait.”

Sungchan does.

“Thanks for the, um,” Chenle racks his brain, “thanks for the bear!”

Sungchan tilts his head.

“Y’know, from the arcade,” he says awkwardly.

“Oh,” Sungchan smiles, flushing, “Yeah. It’s nothing. _Definitely_ nothing compared to you saving my ass.” He laughs.

“Definitely.”

“I thought you hated that.”

“Nah,” Chenle says, walking closer.

“Thought you hated me,” Sungchan mumbles.

Chenle smiles nervously. “I thought so too,” he says and tugs Sungchan downwards to kiss him square on the mouth. Sungchan freezes. Chenle is ready to pull away and regret his life decisions when Sungchan kisses back tentatively. In the news, he’s a nameless face but in here, with Chenle’s hands gently holding his face, he’s Jung Sungchan with the soft smile and clumsy hands.

A piss-stained alley in a Seoul outpost really isn’t the ideal place for this to happen so Chenle, with all his might, tries not to fall a little bit in love but completely, utterly fails.

**Author's Note:**

> the unnamed art museum in this fic is loosely based on an actual museum called sifang art museum in nanjing, china. happy 2021 ! ily all


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